


The Kid is Alright

by irradiations



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-10
Updated: 2010-12-10
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irradiations/pseuds/irradiations
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur missed all the parent-teacher evenings. Except this one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kid is Alright

**Author's Note:**

> Saw this prompt on the Golden Oldies thread, about Eames and Arthur having a son who calls Arthur pére and them both going to a parent teach evening, and fell in love with it! It is a part of my 'Eames/Arthur relationship' verse, The Unspoken Sequence, and assumes that the two are in a relationship. The whole verse will explore their relationship from end to end.

“He's late.”

“He'll be here, don't worry.” Henry made a huffing noise and crossed his arms, body language all attitude when really, Eames knew, it was excitement. “We've got twenty minutes before we have to go in, he'll be here.”

“When?” Eames hated it when Henry got like this – it made him angry that Arthur was barely ever here and still Henry talked about his _pére_ like he was some kind of brilliant father figure. Eames swallowed his anger and managed a brief smile.

“Soon. Now, is there anything we should know?” Henry shook his head. “No fighting?” Another head shake. “What about your marks – are you doing better in maths?” Henry nodded theatrically, and Eames gave him a sideways look.

“Yes, Dad. I got 20 out of 20 on my 'rhythmatic.”

“Ah-rhythmatic, Henry,” Eames corrected automatically, earning an eyeroll from his son which he pointedly ignored. He pulled his phone out and rattled off a text – _Where are you? Henry is counting on you. E x_ \- then sat and tried to remember all the good things about Arthur that he loved. It prevented him from exploding with anger when Arthur did finally appear.

“I'm here.” Eames jumped and glanced down at his phone, as if certain that the source of the voice must have come from the device. He felt a little saddened that he found it so unbelievable that Arthur was really here that he assumed his phone was talking to him.

“ _Pére_!” Henry leapt to his feet, scattering the books that had been on his lap across the floor, and sprang against Arthur, hugging him tightly. Eames caught Arthur's eye and winked, raising a smile from the exhausted-looking point man, then he picked up the books and shoved them in the blue book-bag Henry owned. “I knew you wouldn't miss it!”

“Though it was pretty damn close,” Eames muttered under his breath, careful that Henry didn't hear him. “You're just in time.”

“I know, I got held up writing-”

“Henry's parents?” The teacher was small and hardly looked old enough to be in school herself, let alone imparting knowledge to the next generation. “Come on in,” she said, holding the door open for them and going to the desk. She shuffled a few papers around until she found the report she'd penned about Henry, then smiled at Eames, who she'd met before.

“Good to see you again, Miss Raymond,” he said, smiling broadly at her. “This is my partner, Arthur,” he continued, indicating Arthur who was stifling a yawn.

“Lovely to meet you,” Miss Raymond said, polite smile in place. Though their situation wasn't exactly average, she saw it frequently; one parent works away and you're lucky to see once in the school year, and the other comes to everything and is always there. And, usually, when the absentee parent makes a reappearance, the child's behaviour suffers. “Firstly, I want to say how lovely it is to have Henry in my class. All year he's been well behaved, and his skills at maths and English are excellent for a 10 year old.”

Miss Raymond watched their reactions; Eames continued to smile like a cat that's got the cream, Henry was sitting up straight and looking very pleased with himself, while Arthur had a look of paternal pride so strong that Miss Raymond couldn't help the smile on her face. “He's made a lot of friends, and has shown an interest in learning to play an instrument. Would that be something he could do?”

“I played piano as a kid,” Arthur said, and Henry looked up at him with doe-eyes.

“I want to play piano, Miss,” Henry said, and Miss Raymond laughed gently. Her assumption about how much Henry looked up to Arthur was right.

“I'm sure we can sort that out, Henry,” she told him, writing herself a note on a post-it. “Did you tell your-” She stumbled for a moment, looking for the right words, “Your Dads about your story?”

“What story was this?” Arthur asked, interest plain on his face.

“It was about you, and Dad, and Uncle Dom. You were Superman, and Dad was Spiderman and Uncle Cobb was Batman and you cleaned up the streets of all the bad guys,” he said, revelling in the grin spreading on Arthur's face. “And then you all taught me about fighting bad guys. Is it that story, Miss?” Arthur glanced up at Eames and smiled, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes, that story. We've put it on the wall in the classroom, if you'd like to have a look when you leave,” she said, scribbling another note down. “We've got one small area of concern,” she said, the tone in her voice changing slightly. Henry began to shrink into his seat, looking worried about what she was going to say. “Arthur – if you don't mind me calling you that -” He shook his head. “Henry finds you being away a bit stressful. We can tell because he seems to enjoy practical jokes far more when he knows you're coming home.”

“Is this true?” Arthur asked, now looking at Eames and Henry. They both nodded solemnly, and Arthur felt a familiar pang of guilt. He hated being away so much; now he hated it even more. He wondered why Eames hadn't mentioned anything before.

“I'm sorry, _pére_ ,” Henry said, head hung low in shame. Miss Raymond smiled across the desk.

“We'll talk about it later,” Eames said, giving Arthur a warning look. _Don't put Miss Raymond on the spot or upset Henry until we've talked._

“It's nothing huge; believe me when I say that there are children here who are much worse, but it's something to think about,” she said, hoping to smooth things over a little with the family. “Anyway, the overall picture is that Henry is getting on very well, we're all really pleased with him,” she added, handing Arthur a copy of Henry's mid-year report. “Come back to me if you have any issues.”

~*~*~

Arthur snuck out of the room, turning the main light off so there was just a blue glow from a nightlight. When the light flicked off, Henry rolled over but remained completely asleep. Henry and Arthur had had a long conversation about why he'd been playing up when Arthur was away, and Arthur had made a decision about his career. He pulled the door half closed then walked down the hallway towards the living room, where Eames was sewing leaves onto a jumper for the school play that weekend. “Asleep?” he asked, looking up from his work briefly.

“Yep,” Arthur replied, pouring himself a glass of wine and sitting at the table across from Eames. He smiled as he watched Eames skillfully stitching fabric leaves onto an old jumper, a silver thimble on his finger, each leaf carefully cut from an old piece of fabric. They sat in comfortable silence, each alone with their thoughts in a silence so complete that when Arthur stood, he made Eames jump and prick his finger with the needle. He muttered a curse before he spoke.

“Where're you going?” he asked, before sticking his bleeding finger in his mouth and licking the blood away.

“To phone Anton. I'm not going to Russia.”

“I thought you'd been working on that job for months?” Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, fatigue and irritation bringing on a headache.

“I have. But Henry's more important than any job, and I don't want him getting in trouble because I'm barely ever here,” he said, with the air of someone who'd made a decision and couldn't be swayed from it. “It's not fair on him.” There was a pause. “Or you. I miss you when I'm away, too.”

“We'll have to take local jobs instead,” Eames added, standing up and abandoning the sewing on the table. “I think you've made the right choice, Arthur.”

“Why didn't you tell me he was... Acting out?”

“Would you have believed me?” Eames paused for a moment, then continued, “He loves me; I know that. But he adores you, Arthur, and you him. I love the fact that the tiny baby we adopted nearly eleven years ago is such a great child, and I love how much you two get on. I didn't want to jeopardise that relationship by bringing up a behaviour that you never see.”

Arthur was slightly stunned – Eames was not only making sense, but he was accepting that Arthur and Henry were remarkably close for two people who weren't blood-related. “We can fix this, can't we?”

“Of course we can. If you're here more, he'll be fine.” Arthur looked unsure. “He's a good kid; you'll see.”


End file.
